The Butterfly Does Affect
by Handsome Awkward
Summary: House is going into the past. What will a small little twist in a small little scenario make of his future?
1. The Smell of Smoke

Disclaimer: Don't own _House M.D_. or _The Butterfly Effect_

Supernatural powers are rarely taken seriously. They are thrown aside with dinosaurs, aliens and ghosts. In the event of time traveling, changing the future and correcting past mistakes, there are many things that could go wrong.

The Butterfly Effect being a prime example. The change of one thing in the past that leads to an unexpected event in the future.

Of course, we all know that life is unexpected but…who is to say what events are significant

---(Story based on the movie _The Butterfly Effect.)_

---------------------------

Pictures. Where the hell were the pictures? They were always littering his apartment with their disdain and awkwardness (his childhood) and when he needed them they weren't to be seen. Anger filled his veins just then. Wilson shouldn't have said anything about his stupid father. It was none of his damn business. The stupid rape victim should've just kept her mouth shut about wanting him as her doctor. Cuddy shouldn't have mentioned about him not having ANY friends. Tritter shouldn't have made him nearly lose his one and only friend. It was like they were conspiring against him.

In his reality at least. It was ridiculous. All he needed were the damn pictures to prove to Wilson that his childhood wasn't all that bad. I mean…he didn't have to prove anything to anybody but…this was different. It was mandatory in a way.

His leg was throbbing from all the squatting he was doing but he kept looking for the Goddamn pictures. Finally the photo album came into view. He grabbed it swiftly and sat back on his haunches. His brow scrunched as he flipped through pictures of him and Stacy, him in college, graduation, birthday parties…and finally the one he was looking for. Him, his mom, and his dad. The uncomfortable nine-year-old in his nearly-too-short slacks and his ugly uniform jacket and the stupid tie that scratched his neck and practically choked him. The infamous pout that was painted on his face. The strict, angry, steel look his dad had as he stared into the camera. Oblivious mother standing and smiling as the flash steels another second in time.

He focused on his dad's hand pressing down painfully on his shoulder…he remembers the day.

--

"I don't want to take the stupid picture." He whined as his mom put the tie around his neck in a tight (but not too tight) knot.

"You have to. It's for your dad."

"He didn't do anything special, why should we have to remember an ordinary day?"

"Because Gregory it is important to him and I want you to get along with him and I want this photo to go well."

"You're just going to put it on the mantle just like the last six years and all its going to do is collect dust."

"Hush up now and go downstairs. Okay?" His mom ran a comb through the boy's curly hair and pushed him gently out of the bathroom.

--

He had hated that guy who took the photo. The smirk that made him appear slightly mad. The cigar smoke that littered the living room.

House could smell the vanilla fragrance that the man breathed out of his disgusting mouth and slightly coughed at the memory.

His eyes moved away from the picture with acute awareness.

He laughed momentarily to himself. How ridiculous it was to be obsessive about something a few people said or did. He felt like a moron for getting angry over something stupid and trying too hard to look for something that meant nothing.

Something that was in the past.

--

**This might be stupid but it's just an idea I'm playing with. Tell me if you like it so far and I shall continue.**


	2. Broken Nose

A/N: Thanks for the ONE review from...( drum role? )

VickySparrow! woot!! go VS!!

Sucky chapter but IT WILL GET BETTER!!!!

--

1969. Ten-year old Gregory House pushes his way through the hallways of the small base Military Elementary School. St. Billiards Correctional Institute to be exact.

'Yes, SBCIES is the best damn school in the land.' The small lanky (too tall for his age) Gregory walked with his German 101 book in hand. Wasn't he a little young to be learning German terminology? 'Should just be home schooled.' He scowled at the crowd he was fighting. 'Get the damn year over with and don't have to worry about getting stomped on at lunch, pushed down after school, not to mention chased home by the stupid school bully (of course military school had school bullies, big ones with futures in shooting people) he had peed on in the boys bathroom. Sure, it was funny at the time…but, as always, Gregory Big Mouth provoked him which always means, Gregory Big Mouth gets what he gets.

He finally made it to the dull classroom and sat at his assigned dull seat. Right in front of…Billy Joe Piss Foot. Damn it. He put his head in his hands and moaned incoherently to himself. The large boy turned around and gave him a good hard glare.

Greg looked up and smiled innocently. The smile turned into a slight look of shock when the larger boys fist came into contact with his nose. He actually FELT the bones crunching underneath the idiot's knuckles. His hand automatically went to his face in a quick grasp. He was panting as gravity had decided to push/pull him in the floor as he held his face as gently as he possibly could. (never had a broken nose before).

"Thomas James Alder go the principal's NOW!" The teacher screamed in anger. She ran to the skinny boy's side and pulled his hand away as gently as she could. Her face went from anger to immense concern in .5 seconds. "Jasmine, call the nurse."

Tears were rolling down his face uncontrollably though he wasn't crying. His face felt like it was going to melt off. He gritted his teeth until the practically shattered under all the weight and tried to shake his hand away from the woman's grip.

"Greg? Gregory? Look at me…hey, look at me. You're losing blood okay? Keep your eyes on me." He forced his eyes to look forward even though the slight movement made his face throb.

They brought a stretcher. Huh, they actually brought a stupid stretcher for a broken nose.

Ridiculous.

--

House woke with a slight sweat and an unidentified pain. He reached up to his nose and feels the blood trickle down his fingers. His eyes widened dramatically.

He stood up abruptly and looked at his clock in a quick side-glance; 2:13 am.

(damn)

His uneven gait led him heavily to his bathroom where he stared into the mirror. His hand came back up to his face.

(Wow.)

His nose was actually broken FROM the dream.


	3. Fire in the House

A/N: ENJOY. and review...:)

The wind was pushing against his office windows mutely as he stared out into the storm that was to come. A lot of unneeded information was leaked out about his damn nose. Another fight with a patient, Wilson had gotten a hit in, Cuddy finally snapped at one of his lewd comments. Even a few people (mostly Wilson and his team…) believed he was being chased by drug dealers.

Its not like he could tell them what had happened. Especially not Wilson. He wasn't an open book for sure but this was damn weird. He didn't even know what had REALLY happened.

He pressed his fingers on the uncomfortable bandage and winced slightly as a jolt of pain wracked through his face.

On a second note, incredible was the only word he could use to describe the situation. He couldn't believe it. No, he really COULDN'T believe it. It was damn UNbelievable. It was broken in the exact way it had been broken so many years ago. There was only a slight difference. The kid- urine foot -didn't punch him when he smiled. He waited until AFTER the teacher left to consult when he crushed his small nose to oblivion.

That's what threw him for a loop. Well…no that's not what threw him, the fact that a DREAM broke his nose. It was just surreal. Like he was still in the dream.

He heard the door open but didn't turn around. He already knew who it was.

"So what actually happened? I've been getting all of my information from Cameron." Wilson said and House could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"I don't know." He said dejectedly.

"What do you mean you don't know." Wilson scoffed, "You just woke up this morning with a broken nose?"

"Yes." House stated monotonously as he limped out of the room. He seemed frustrated. Wilson looked on and sighed, confused, at the retreating form.

--

The wind was rushing through his shirt. He hadn't worn a jacket and the motorcycle was going at least 75. The warm air was rushing into the cracks of the helmet and he felt relaxed even though his nose was throbbing, as was his leg. He put it in the back of his mind and kept on the accelerator and even sped up a bit.

--

He slammed the door of his apartment shut and turned on the light. He pulled his helmet off slowly and gently careful of his nose. He threw the helmet and his backpack in his closet and shut the door.

Something clicked in his mind. He opened the messy closet once again. The boxes were in the far back corner. He reached over and almost fell over the crap. He cursed gently and grabbed the top of the box where the edges were bent in. he sat it gently on the floor behind him and grabbed the second box.

They were covered in light dust and they were small. He opened the first one with great care. Making sure there was nothing breakable or valuable in it. The object on top was one of his favorite tee shirts from the 70's. It was black with a vintage white Queen Concert Tour logo. He had gone to the concert in spite of his dad's wishes practically getting his ass kicked when his dad found out. The memory made his head ache slightly with remorse. He never really thought about his past but now it was getting to him. The bully from the third grade and now his sophomore mistakes.

He pulled the Queen shirt out and started at it for a long moment. He felt his blood pressure drop… He was light headed and he felt something pop in his head like he was on a plane. His head was spinning and he saw his whole apartment start to spin. The tee shirt dropped from his fingers and he grasped his head with both of his hands. His mind felt like it was cracking somehow and the second the shirt fell from his fingers he recovered from the spell, not immediately but gradually he felt everything go back to normal inside him. He shook his head slowly and blinked his eyes. He felt himself go back to normal and looked at his surroundings.

His brow scrunched in fascination when he saw the composition notebooks that were stacked up under old clips of photographs and other memorabilia from his teen hood. His mouth contorted into a smirk when he reached into the crevice and pulled out the pink lace C-cup that he stole from his first time with his sophomore girlfriend. The memory made him smile even wider and he felt heat go through him as he recalled the wonderful night. He tossed the bra over his shoulder and grabbed one of the black and white books. He scrolled through the pages and his fingers caught on the first page so he read it. He recognized the handwriting as when he was very young. At the most, seven-years-old.

_MOMMY TOLD ME I HAD TO WRITE IN A JOURNAL BECAUSE THE DOCTOR TOLD HER I'M HAVING BLACK OUTS. I'M NOT SURE WHAT THAT MEANS BUT I DON'T GUESS IT'S A VERY GOOD THING SINCE I SAW MOMMY CRYING IN THE KITCHEN WHEN SHE WAS MAKING BREAKFAST THIS MORNING._

ANYWAY, JENNY IS GOING TO THE VALENTINE DANCE WITH ME. I DIDN'T ASK HER AND I KIND OF DON'T WANT TO GO BUT I GUESS IT WONT HURT ANYTHING. IT IS MY FIRST DANCE.

He felt the spell start up again but ignored it and pushed the book away. He grabbed the second book and flipped through the pages. He recognized one entry in particular.

I COULD SMELL THE SMOKE BEFORE I EVEN OPENED MY EYES.IT WAS ALMOST SUFFOCATING. I PULLED THE COVERS OFF OF ME AND SAW THE THICK GREY CLOUD ROLL UNDER THE DOOR. I DON'T THINK I EVER MOVED THAT QUICKLY. I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT-

House felt his head start to throb uncontrollably now. It wasn't one he could just push away. He tried his best to ignore it but was still intrigued at how far it would go so he started to read the passage out loud.

"I don't think I ever moved that quickly. I didn't know what was happening. I opened my door quickly and saw the hallway was filled with smoke. I got on my hands and knees like they taught me in elementary school and the next thing I remember--"

--

He woke up with a startling migraine. His head felt like it was about to be pinched off by God. He opened his eyes and saw he was in a small bed and he had somehow shrunk. He jumped up and out of his bed and saw the smoke rising up out of the bottom of the door. Just them he felt a flash of scenes, like a movie, shoot through his head. The pain was back but ten times worse and once it stopped hurting he felt something running down his upper lip. He reached up and touched underneath his nose only to bring them down with blood covering them. He reached wildly for something to wipe off the crimson fluid that should be in his body instead of out. He found a sock lying on his floor and grimaced as he reached for it and shoved it to his nose to clot the bleeding.

Finally when he felt the blood stop flowing out of his nostril he threw the bloody sock out of his vicinity and went to open the door and see the damage of the fire. Once he opened the door the smoke hit him like a brick wall and his knees buckled under him. He crawled down the hallway in a way that gave him déjà vu. The floor was warm under the palms of his hands and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks due to the smoke that was making him nearly go into a coughing fit. But he kept crawling. He heard his mom yelling his name, sirens, unknown voices screaming 'Greg' trying to find him. He couldn't breathe. His heart was pounding…he was going to die.


End file.
